something obscene
by Nygmatech
Summary: "It's not the end of the world, Clark," Lex tries to reason, pale hand curling over Clark's shoulder, a comforting squeeze. "Plenty of people are gay, it's normal."


something obscene

Here is something that should have happened:

The cold, dry air of Smallville at midnight, the smell of hay, the mesmerizing movements of Clark Kent's mouth as he forms a question:

"Lex?" Clark whispers, and his voice trembles. He bites his lip and aimlessly fidgets with his hands, shoulders hunched, every bit the classic portrait of an awkward sixteen year old boy. He's looking at Lex like normal people look at Lex—nervous and a little terrified at being face to face with a Luthor. "Can I tell you something?"

_Anything,_ Lex thinks, desperately, before he can stop himself. He exhales and paints a casual, easy smile over his face, juxtaposed with how his mind is clawing at the inside of his skull, saying _anything for you, Clark, anything you want. _"Of course. What are friends for?"

Clark swallows thickly, and Lex's eyes follow the motion. He turns his head up to the stars outside the barn loft, as if the vast expanses of space hold the answers to whatever unanswered questions are on his mind.

"I'm not…" he starts, speech jagged from anxiety, "exactly from around here. And I don't mean just Kansas."

Here is something that actually happened:

Clark swallows thickly, and Lex's eyes follow the motion. The younger boy turns a little pink, drops his eyes to the ground, and opens his mouth as if to speak, then closes it.

Lex moves forward, concerned, the heels of his Italian leather shoes a dull thump on the old wood of the Kents' barn loft. "Clark, what is it?" he asks, because with the way his best friend is acting it has to be something terrible, like he's an alien or a mass murderer or one of those mutant freaks with super powers.

"I think I might be gay," Clark blurts out, all in a rush, like it's the worst secret he could possibly have kept, and Lex feels considerably lighter, a feeling of relief because this is good, this is normal, and it means Clark isn't a superhuman meteor freak. He thinks there's something else there that makes him glad to hear it, but Lex isn't allowed to think about that—he's twenty two and Clark is sixteen and they are just friends, that is all.

So he fakes a smile, absently rubs the back of his bare skull with one hand, and says, "it's okay, Clark," but before he can say anything else, Clark's dad calls out something from below. Clark jumps, looking apprehensively from Lex to the yard. Lex understands, and breathes, "I should go."

* * *

It's natural, Lex consoles himself, for Clark to be reaching out to him so much more now. He's looking for security, knowledge that he's still loved and accepted and he needs one place where nothing will change no matter what he is. Just one safe place in the world.

He shouldn't be surprised, then, when a week after coming out to Lex, Clark is at the mansion's front door, dripping wet from the rain, and he looks like he might have been crying but Lex can't tell for certain.

Clark doesn't say anything, so Lex closes the door behind him. The silence inside the mansion is suddenly oppressive, and Lex wants to suffocate in it, wants to drown in the trail of water Clark is tracking inside.

"I told my parents," Clark whispers, haltingly. Lex lets out a breath he wasn't aware he'd been holding.

He doesn't know how to do this. When he was Clark's age he was wasting his life away in Metropolis nightclubs under a fake ID, overdosing on cocaine and letting much older men take him home. He never told his father, not really, just let him read about the latest scandal in the newspapers, but Lionel didn't care what Lex did, he was still the failure of a son, gay or not.

"They'll come around," Lex tells him, but it sounds fake, unconvincing to his own ears.

Clark only shrugs. "I dunno. Can I stay with you for a couple days?"

And Lex almost asks why Clark didn't go to one of his school friends, someone closer to his own age, but realizes, stomach turning, that Lex is the only person Clark trusts, but he shouldn't be, he's a spoiled rich brat six years Clark's senior, he's every bad thing people say about him and more. And he wants to warn Clark that he'll want to pin him down and get inside him and wreck him, because he does this to the things he loves, he does.

"Okay," he says, instead.

* * *

Martha calls, later, once Lex has found dry clothes for Clark that are still too small for him, but better than nothing. The phone looms on Lex's desk, and Clark looks around from his seat in front of the fireplace, a weary look in still-red eyes.

"Hi Mrs. Kent," Lex answers, softly, finally, on the fifth ring. Clark's mom's voice is slightly crackly over the line, and everyone knows what she's going to say before she says it.

He can feel Clark's eyes on the back of his head, like Clark is trying to burn holes in the pale hairless skin, through bone and brain matter as if that might keep him from speaking.

"Yeah, he's here. No, he didn't tell me what happened. Okay. Okay. I'll tell him."

Lex sets the phone down with a click, and crossed the room tentatively, like he's approaching a wild animal, but eventually folds himself in a sitting position next to Clark on the plush floor rug, Clark with his secrets, with his crying reddened eyes. Lex wants to reach out and touch him, draw him in for a hug, a kiss, something else he's not allowed to think about.

"Your mom says she loves you."

Clark blinks and squeezes his eyes shut, an abrupt, choked sound like he's about to start crying again, and brings his knees up to his chest to bury his face in them.

A long pause, Lex feeling trapped somewhere between Clark and propriety, knowing there's no way both of them can make it out of this unscathed. What he wants and what Clark needs are balanced equally in each hand.

One of them is going to end up hurt no matter what he chooses.

"It's not the end of the world, Clark," he tries to reason, pale hand curling over Clark's shoulder, a comforting squeeze. "Plenty of people are gay, it's normal—your parents will realize that, eventually."

"Yeah, well," Clark starts bitterly, but still doesn't look up. "Bet I'm the only one in Smallville."

"No, you're not."

The words fall from Lex's lips before he can stop himself, but that gets Clark to look up, his blue eyes ringed with red clashing against Lex's kryptonite green. They're both sitting, waiting with baited breath, waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it doesn't.

"Some guy will be lucky to have you, Clark," Lex murmurs, a wry smile, and he still can't bring himself to say what he's thinking because that would ruin Clark and ruin their friendship which really is the only good thing Lex has had going for him since his mother died. "Trust me. And then how you feel now won't matter anymore."

"Lex, I-"

"It's late," Lex interrupts him, hastily, and stands up, because he can't bear to hear what Clark is bound to say next.

The thing is, Lex, like all humans, is inherently selfish, and it always gets the better of him sooner or later.

* * *

"Let's go somewhere," Clark suggests on the third day, aimlessly tapping on the windowsill, and he's looking at the sky but Lex is looking at his hand. "It's still spring break and I just… I need to get out of Smallville for a while," he finishes, sounding apologetic, like he doesn't know Lex will do anything if he asks.

"I have a penthouse in Metropolis," Lex offers, and he doesn't mention that there are no spare rooms and Clark will have to sleep on the couch or in his bed. Neither option offers safety.

"Okay," Clark says, and smiles for the first time since showing up at his door. It's a smile like the Kansas sun, like light reflecting off of the river.

Lex thinks, _I don't deserve that, I don't deserve that._

* * *

They're standing outside, ready to leave, but Lex has dropped his car keys and Clark, instinctively, reaches down for them.

He stands back up, too close for comfort, and it's so easy fort Lex to close his hand over Clark's wrist instead of the keys.

Clark will never forgive him for this, Lex thinks, Clark who is standing there with brows furrowed, lips parted as if to ask a question.

Lex kisses him, because he is weak and selfish and can't do anything in Clark's best interest anyway so maybe he wants to never be forgiven and maybe now Clark will finally leave him alone.


End file.
